


Mint Chocolate Chip

by stellar_dust



Category: Pundit RPF (US)
Genre: Episode Tag, Ice Cream, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-18
Updated: 2008-07-18
Packaged: 2017-10-07 06:28:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellar_dust/pseuds/stellar_dust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the ice cream that does it.  You understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mint Chocolate Chip

**Author's Note:**

> Context: http://www.thedailyshow.com/video/index.jhtml?videoId=167429&amp;title=festival-of-wrights

"Pssst! Stewart!"

Jon looked up, napkin in hand, as the first commercial break music started to play. John Hodgman was beckoning frantically off to stage left. He sighed. Time to solve another pressing issue.

He'd taken one step past the edge of the set when he felt a tug at his neck, and found himself yanked forward by the tie, his lips smooshed suddenly and awkwardly against Hodgman's mouth.

"Mmph!" Jon said. His eyes bugged out. He stumbled. He caught himself with a hand on the set - against John's chest - on John's arm - fumbling with John's fingers where they grasped his tie -

"Mmmmmm," John agreed. The picture of serenity, Hodgman's eyes were closed in bliss as his tongue explored Jon's lips, his teeth, his gums ...

With a concerted effort, Jon located both his hands, placed them against John's chest, and pushed. "What the _hell_, Hodgman?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Jon." John pulled back, one hand straightening Jon's lapel, blinking owlishly as his eyes drifted slowly from the corner of Jon's mouth out to the set where the prop crew was carrying away the tub of Baskin Robbins. "It's the mint chocolate chip. You know."

"I, um - " Jon blinked. "What?"

"I could never resist it. .... Oh, hey, you've still got some -"

"No!" his hand rose in a split second, catching John's shoulder at arm's length. "I mean, um, thanks, John, but I've got it, really."

"Are you sure?" John's eyes focused intently on his chin.

"_Yes_," Jon said firmly. Miraculously, he still clutched the napkin. He wiped his face. All of it. Even his ears.

"... So, you, uh, ready for the segment?"

"Jon, for you, I'm never not ready," Hodgman answered very seriously.

Now what was he supposed to make of _that_?

"Uh .. great!" Jon caught a producer's eye, nodded that they were all set. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "We'd .. better get out there then."

Jon settled into his chair as the cameras started rolling. He worried at his lower lip. Tasted mint.

Across the desk, Hodgman smiled mildly.

Jon swiveled, ducked under the desk, and _laughed his ass off_.


End file.
